Price of a Rabbit's Name
by jin fenghuang
Summary: There is no greater joy than listening to childhood stories when visiting the spouse's parents. Post war. Tobias/Eileen, Snape/Harry


**Title**: The Price of a (Rabbit's) Name  
**Pairings**: Tobias/Eileen, Snape/Harry  
**Author**: **jin_fenghuang**  
**Beta Readers**: **cadesama**, **lesyeuxverts00**, and **eeyore9990**  
**Rating**: PG.  
**Summary**: There is no greater joy than listening to childhood stories when visiting the spouse's parents.

The couch groaned when Harry shifted on its overstuffed floral upholstery. Snape and his mum were arguing in the kitchen over which blend to serve and, more importantly, the best way to prepare said tea. Some things seemed hereditary.

It had taken Harry over five years to nag Severus into having him meet his parents, and since he would have to pay for it dearly later, Harry was dead-set to enjoy every minute of it now.

The parlour was actually quite cosy; soft light filtered through embroidered curtains, leaving a faint outline of sheep and clouds wandering across the floor. A fat Siamese cat was sleeping on the window sill surrounded by picture frames, its tail wound around a plethora of ornaments.

The argument in the kitchen was disrupted by the shrill shriek of a boiling kettle, startling the cat in its mid afternoon nap. A very undignified feline flail and a sprinted retreat across the room and up the stairs later, several of the framed photographs lay in pieces on the floor.

Restoring one of the undamaged ones to its place on the sill, Harry was about to cast a quick _Reparo_ when both Snape and his mother poked their heads in from the kitchen.

Mrs Snape wiped her hands on her apron, her eyes searching the room in mild alarm. "Is Gilderoy okay?"

Harry gave Severus a puzzled glance.

"She named the cat Gilderoy."

"No need to sneer at me, son. I do recall a certain rabbit..."

"Mother, please! I was four."

Eileen leaned over the banister looking straight at her son, building up steam. "And never mind that he was your colleague for a year. A whole year, son, and you never once saw fit to ask him over for tea. And how many times did I ask you to have him sign a book?"

"Speaking of Gilderoy, he is probably hiding under your bed, upstairs."

Eileen gave her son a withering glare. "Well, I'd better check then, hadn't I?" The click of her sensible shoes disappeared up the stairs.

HPSSHPSS

Harry picked up one of the photographs from the floor, careful not to cut his fingers on the shards. Snape stepped up behind him, gently taking the picture out of his hands and casting _Reparo_ on it.

"A rabbit, huh?" Harry leaned back against Snape's solid form.

Snape, ignoring the comment, put the photo down on the mantle, reaching for another a bit to his left. "Look, this one has your mother in it." He ran his finger lovingly over the dusty glass, holding it so that Harry could see.

At the centre of the yellowing photograph was a rickety kitchen table. A little boy, green paper hat on his dark hair, sat with his face turned away from the camera, staring into the setting winter sun. A balloon had been tied to the back of his chair. Paper-plates and party hats sat neatly spaced around a lopsided birthday cake; bright blue icing declared him nine. One piece had been cut but sat uneaten on the boy's plate.

A much younger Eileen walked into the picture, ruffling her son's hair, leaning down to whisper something into his ear. The boy turned, shaking his head, tear-stains red on his pale complexion.

Harry reached behind himself, lacing his fingers with Snape's, gently squeezing them.

"It was past dinnertime; Mum wanted to clear the cake away, but I wouldn't let her. I remember her helping me write the invitations in bright markers. No one came."

Snape squeezed back.

"What about my mum, not even her?"

Snape nudged him, returning his focus to the picture. The kitchen door was open now and a red-headed little girl in a bright yellow pea-coat was holding onto the door handle, her nose red from the cold.

The joy spreading across the boy's face was infectious. Harry found himself grinning along with him as he raced over to exuberantly hug his friend.

"I thought she would not come, either. Later she told me that her parents had forbidden her to. Too far away, they had said, too dangerous. She had snuck out after dinner. Got in a lot of trouble for it later, too, even though Da drove her home."

Harry gently took the photograph from Snape's hand and put it back down on the mantle.

"I am glad she did. Come, I mean." Fidgeting, Harry picked another photograph at random. "What about this one?"

Snape groaned and tried to snatch it from him.

A toddler in a stripy romper sat on a bath towel, picking up strawberries from a bowl in front of him. Pudgy little fingers squeezed the ripe fruit before stuffing it into the general direction of his mouth.

Harry tried to look innocent, surreptitiously keeping the frame out of Severus' reach. "Say, do you think your mum would make me a copy?"

"She might, if you ask her nicely." Mrs Snape, a contently meowing cat cradled in her arms, carefully made her way down the stairs.

"Not if I_ Incendio_ it first." Severus grumped, trying to pocket the picture.

Eileen flicked her wand and it jumped out of Snape's hand and back onto its place on the window sill. "You do that and I will tell Harry the bunny story."

"Mother, I really do not think..."

"Severus, be a good boy and tell your father that tea is ready. He is with his pigeons. Make him wash up first, will you." Depositing Gilderoy on his fluffy pillow, she ran her hands over her cardigan, brushing away errant cat hair.

"Oh my, I remember that one. Strawberries everywhere..." She ran a finger lovingly over the glass before picking up another. "But this," she handed it to Harry, "is the one I wanted you to see."

On a roll-out bed with Batman sheets, a little boy in his underwear was jumping up and down. A black suit jacket was wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. Each creaky jump pushed him higher and higher, with his skinny arms flailing and his hair wild. It seemed like an invisible breath carried him, let him hover a tiny bit longer in mid-air than physics should allow.

"Had to nearly _Petrify_ him to get that damn coat off him. He can fly, you know. Without a broom. Used to sneak out of the house that way. His Da nearly had a heart attack when he caught him one night, too."

"I have seen him fly, once, during the war. It was pretty impressive."

"Is that how you two met? During the war?"

"You could say that."

Eileen gave him a speculative glance. "Weren't you one of his students? You seem the right age. You did go to Hogwarts, didn't you?"

"Yes, I was but... I mean, we weren't back then. He didn't even like me then."

"Interesting, you know you do look familiar..."

HPSSHPSS


End file.
